


Decidedly Indecisive

by persnickett



Category: Live Free or Die Hard (2007)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-22
Updated: 2011-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:11:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persnickett/pseuds/persnickett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe McClane wasn’t just one of those people who knew what he wanted. Maybe he was one of those guys who knew what you wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decidedly Indecisive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheafleur](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sheafleur).



> Part of a smutlet trio written as a gift in thanks for unexpected generosity by sheafleur over on lj.

Matt had always been one of those people. You know the kind. That doesn’t really know what he wants.  
   
He knows when he’s happy and everything, he’s not a drooling moron or an anhedonic couch-case or anything like that. He just…mostly doesn’t know what’s going to make him happy until it’s happening.  
   
He was pretty happy right now though. So he guessed it didn’t matter too much.  
   
It might have been because he just wasn’t very self-aware. Heck, sometimes he could get so caught up in a job he could go days without eating before he realized the buzzing behind his eyes was his body’s way of telling him it was actually hungry. He was much better at figuring _other_ people out. Or at least he thought he was.  
   
Then he met John McClane.  
   
It was ridiculous. The man took ‘inscrutable’ to new levels. Matt was still trying to riddle the bastard out. If there was one thing that was clear about McClane, though, it was that _he_ knew what he wanted. And once he decided to go after it – good luck stopping him.  
   
Matt hadn’t _thought_ he wanted this; the authoritative, but not rough, hand on his neck. The way it was holding him – why mince words – _commandingly_ in place, but with the thumb rubbing gentle, shivery strokes into the short-cropped hairs at the base of his skull.  
   
He hadn’t thought he wanted to be not so much ‘pushed around’, as _guided_. Posed, like one of his action figures; stretched and moulded and placed in positions quite obviously and stunningly designed to maximize the sensation of the things McClane was doing to him.  
   
And maybe that was the key. Maybe McClane wasn’t just one of those people who knew what he wanted. Maybe he was one of those guys who knew what _you_ wanted. Knew it before Matt did. Maybe Matt just didn’t get it before, but maybe they’d been working their way around to this since the moment he’d made that split-second decision to dash out to the car after McClane, in Warlock’s driveway. Maybe what seemed like a monumentally stupid choice then, was starting to make a little more sense to him now.  
   
Maybe, while they were slowly, mind-breakingly working up to this, McClane had been investigating him, just as hard as Matt had been studying McClane. The thought of it made his skin flush and warmth spread from some tiny, tight spot under his ribcage, flowing like ink from a crushed fountain pen to gather and pool at the small of his back. And it was easy to go with it, work with the rhythm McClane set him until his body made its surrender complete.  
   
The strong fingers gripping him tightened spasmodically. They rubbed soothingly over the places where they had dented into his flesh before finally releasing him.  
   
John McClane was _definitely_ the kind of man who knew what he wanted. And hell, maybe some of it would rub off.  
   
Because Matt had learned a couple of things that were pretty damn effective at making him happy, just now. And if he had anything to say about it, that couple of things was only going to be the start. 

______________________  
'Snick, November 2010 


End file.
